Hear My Cry
by The Erudite
Summary: For years, she has had to suffer in tempestuous silence. Now, at a certain person's "homecoming," she sees the tides of fate beginning to change. Looking back on all that has happened, she is ready to move forward. And he can help her. [Oneshot; loosely implied M!CorrinxAzura; Major spoilers for Revelation]


"Remember everything I've taught you, darling. And remember that I love you, no matter what happens—whatever you may see in the yet-unwritten future… I want you to remember that your mother loves you dearly, all right?"

That's what she had heard the periwinkle-haired woman say. As per her direction, Azura remembered those words with unflinching precision. Even now, she could conjure up the memory and perceive the words as clearly as stones gathered in a river bed. At the time, they were of no significance to her. She nodded slowly, her little eyes half-open. Her mother smiled and gave a little laugh before placing her hand on Azura's head and telling her she should get some rest.

Times had been, and would be tumultuous, then. It never entered into her conception what she was leaving behind. When the floating stones and patches off sapphire blue in the sky disappeared behind them, she thought nothing more of it. She never once considered that she might never again see the bold alabaster halls and the silky, glimmering ramparts as they fled. She only held onto her mother's hand and followed. Her feet grew tired from running as much as they did, and she wasn't sure whether or not to be thankful that she was barefoot, as opposed to her mother, who would remove her black boots every so often when night fell, giving Azura a glimpse of the bloody blisters and callouses that appeared on her soles. In the dim torchlight, Azura would run her fingers along the bumps of her own feet, brushing dirt and gravel out of them, and then, all of a sudden, she was pulled back up: it was time to go again.

They left the castle, never quite running (likely, Azura realized later, because her mother didn't want to panic her), but also never strolling like they did in the gardens. They walked quickly and with purpose, and that was why she never spared a thought for what she was leaving behind: him least of all.

Yes, him. She couldn't remember what they called him, but he was about her age. As the only other royal child in Valla, they were almost exclusive playmates, but the opportunity to play didn't present itself often. She had vague memories of golden sunlit days spent chasing each other in games of tag, and the way he admired birds as they took flight. Once, they spent a whole day on the subject of animals: he showed her a heron, with its long blue wings, flapping its way to the ground, scattering debris with its mighty feathers and preening itself as it landed, and then she led him to the pond near the castle where the koi clung together in quilts of red and gold, and every so often listed up to the surface, bubbling their mouths open like dumbfounded spectators—he had laughed at this behavior.

The light of those days dissolved along with him on that morning when her mother pulled her suddenly from her bed and told her to dress. She didn't exactly like the flowing white garment, but it did feel comfortable once she had dealt with the great ordeal that was donning it. She liked the way it billowed around her feet when she walked, but not as much when it caught underneath them when she tried to run in it. She liked the blue lace that elegantly snaked around it, but she was confused by the empty space along her midsection, although she never questioned it. She liked the swanlike frills that caressed her shoulders, but she shuddered when her underarms were exposed to the cold air. She liked the dress enough, however, to resize and replicate it many times after her mother vanished.

When they passed the edges of the castle town, they drew near a cliff. Azura knew this cliff well: her mother had told her that she must never play near it, and after looking over the side once (to her mother's horror) Azura understood why: an unfathomable expanse of dark clouds swirled belong, a coagulated slurry, like the snow when it was muddied and driven from the walk. When they approached the cliff, her mother told her to close her eyes. She did so, and felt her mother's warm hand cover her face. Then, her other hand hoisted Azura up by her bottom, and before long, she heard a quick exhalation followed by a rush of wind that stung her ears. She hazarded to open her eyes, but the veil of her mother's hand was too thick, and she failed to see anything beyond the dark bars formed by her fingers.

Suddenly, the noise stopped. For a moment, Azura thought she had fallen asleep in her mother's arms, but that was impossible: she was not the least bit tired, and only a few seconds had passed. Why, then, did the air feel so different? It was charged with static—Azura could feel the vibrations resonate with her own nerves and shuddered. Then her mother put her down, removing the veil from her face, and she saw that they were in a vast canyon of onyx coloration, much like the clouds into which she had peered. Lightning arced between the clouds above them, and the world seemed suddenly so much darker. Her mother took her hand and led her forward, telling her she mustn't be afraid. She did her best to comply.

The air seemed to stay dark wherever they went, like the sun had vanished entirely. Sometimes it became very cold, and she swaddled herself in her mother's cast-off robes to stay warm as they continued on toward a big orange light somewhere off in the distance. Azura might have confused it for the sunset, if it weren't for the fact that it was present regardless of the time of day, and it seemed nested in the very ground on which they walked. For that, she felt compelled to keep going, even more so than she did as a result of her mother's beckoning.

She walked outside of the castled and stood along the cobblestone, listening to the chatter out in the market square. She heard heavy footsteps and turned around. Ryoma was looking back at her. "They did it," he said, an awestruck determination sparkling in his eyes, "Kagero told me this morning. They really did it. They'll bring him back here."

Him. There he was again. She remained silent upon hearing the news. She felt a stirring in her chest like she was supposed to say something—indeed, she wanted so desperately to react. She wanted to leap up for joy and embrace the samurai before her, but she said and did nothing, feeling the weight around her neck. She couldn't.

Ryoma seemed undisturbed. He ran back into the palace without another word, shouting for his mother, who had, no doubt, already heard the news. Azura turned to face the streets again and found them too noisy. She needed time to think, and so she strolled to the lake, keeping her eyes forward and her head up.

When they reached the glowing orange castle, she was stunned. The dark walls loomed over them both so intensely black that she didn't dare try to enter them. Her mother tugged her along all the same, and they descended into the miasma below the earth, sinking with each step they took toward it. The darkness around them was cold, but the light emanating from within felt warm when it drew close and danced upon her cheek, so she soon found the courage to venture further. Before long, they had reached the base of the structure, and men whose faces were veiled by metal stepped aside to allow them through. Inside, she felt the light cover her—gold, red, and orange all glittered from every wall and warmed her quickly as her mother moved them both forward to the end of the room. There was a large man sat upon the throne at the end of the room. His skin was pale and he had a grave look about him, and he sported a white beard and long hair. Nonetheless, his address was soft, "Queen Arete… your presence is… unexpected."

"I heard about what happened to Katerina, King Garon," Azura heard her mother answer, "I've come because there is something of grave importance that I must discuss with you."

The large man nodded, "If you believe it so, then I cannot deny you. Who is that with you?"

"My apologies," Azura saw her mother turn around and pull her forward, "This is my daughter, Azura. We were… forced to flee from the castle."

The expression on the man's gray face changed rapidly, "What? …So, this _is_ something important. Very well, let's not waste any time. Come back to my chambers. Cassita, will you see to Princess Azura?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," Azura was surprised as a round, smiling woman approached her and offered her hand, "Hi, sweetie. Your mom and the king are going to have a little talk. Would you please come with me? I'll show you some other boys and girls you can play with, okay?"

Azura nodded slowly and felt herself being led away from the long hall.

She didn't remember the names and faces of all the children to whom she was forcibly introduced. A few would become more familiar as she grew older, but several would cease to become relevant. That was the grim reality of it. She thought, at first, that she would only need to sit in the room and occupy herself for several minutes while her mother spoke to the man, but minutes slowly crept into hours, hours crept into days, and, eventually, weeks and months were passing. Azura couldn't keep track of it all: in the perpetual dark, she wondered if time ever passed at all. She longed for the day when she and her mother would re-emerge from the shadowy lands into the sunny lands in which she played. She wondered when she would get to kneel down and stare at the koi again. She never did.

One particular night—she had learned to differentiate the subtle shades of black and gray that distinguished night from day in these lands—her mother came to her in her chamber and told her those words. Her mother loved her dearly, yes, she would remember it without fail. Satisfied, her mother reached into her pocket and produced a shimmering pendant: an aqua gemstone ensconced by gold that wrapped around it, shaped a bit like a bivalve. She placed the pendant on Azura's neck, letting the chain rest on her shoulders. "This pendant is very important, Azura. You must never get rid of it, do you understand? Even if you want to at times, you must never let this pendant leave your sight, do you hear me?" She nodded. "Good. Now, I want you to sing your mother's special lullaby. Do you think you can do that?" Azura remained silent. "Don't be shy, darling," her mother entreated, "Mother will sing with you, all right?" She closed her eyes and let the air fly out of her chest: _You are the ocean's gray waves…_

… _Destined to seek life beyond the shore, just out of reach_. She looked down: the water had settled into a perfectly smooth, glasslike surface. She yearned to dive in head-first, wanting to be enveloped in the calm, but she followed the procedure. She hazarded one step carefully onto the surface, then another, and one more until she stood in the water, slowly sinking down. She tilted her head back, letting some of her long hair become wet. _Yet the waters ever change…_

… _Flowing like time. The path is yours to climb_. They finished the song and the gemstone around Azura's neck began to glow. She started in surprise as it lifted itself toward her face. "Don't be afraid," her mother told her. "Look," she said, holding up a glass of water. Azura's eyes went wide as she realized that the water stayed still in the glass, even as her mother shook it violently, tilting it this way and that, the water never stirred. "As long as you have that pendant, you will be in control," her mother explained, "you will be able to keep things in balance, to soothe the ravages of wrath, and to rouse silent torpor, but to do it, you yourself must be like the water in this glass: still, silent, unchanging." Her mother stood, holding out the glass, "If ever the glass should be overturned…" she twisted the glass in her hand and the water spilled out in one solid puddle, "no stillness shall ever prevent its breaking. Do you understand?" Azura nodded her head, anyway. Her mother smiled, "Perhaps you do and perhaps you don't. In either case, I only ask that you bear these words in mind. Their sense will come to you as you age. In time, perhaps you will be able to forgive me, too."

This last statement gave Azura paused, and she stared at her mother quizzically: what would she have to be forgiven for? At this, Azura was told to rest, and that all would become clear to her in the daytime.

All became significantly less clear in the daytime. When Azura woke, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and spoke to the servants in search of her mother. Some of them refused to speak to her about it, while others ignored her completely. She continued to wander around and ask until she was seized by the hand, and she saw the gray face of the king who her mother had now told her to call "Father," although he was not her father. "What are you doing, girl?" he demanded.

Azura answered that she was looking for her mother.

"Fool girl," he snarled, "your mother is not here. She abandoned you in the evening. You should take care to forget her."

Azura protested, telling him of her mother's instructions to never forget.

"Do you think I care a wit for some childish promise? Go to the dining hall and speak with one of the maids, they will prepare your breakfast."

She did as she was told, leaving the gray-faced man behind her. She heard him heave as she left, and she considered looking over her shoulder, but she feared this would earn her scolding, and so she continued on.

In the years that followed, she almost did forget her mother. She did not have much of a chance to speak to her siblings—her step-siblings, they reminded her—for they were all accomplishing important duties for King Garon, her step-father (this term she found more amenable than "father"). Unlike the others, she was not given guards when she went into the streets. There, she was often attacked. Her tears were hot and stung her face when people shouted at her. "Mongrel!" they yelled, "How dare you think you can replace Queen Katerina?" Her fear and sadness were made only deeper by her confusion: she knew no Queen Katerina, nor how she had replaced her, but she swore that upon meeting her she would offer her the position once more.

Words, at least, stung less than the real violence. On certain days, she would be surprised by a surly-looking man and dragged into an alley, where she was berated and attacked, hearing the sickening crunch of finger bones connecting with her cheeks. She would scramble and hide under tablecloths until it ended, unless her crying gave her away, whereupon she would be beaten again.

One day, she escaped her abusers and fled the city only to discover a lake on the outskirts of the capital. She leaned out over it and saw the water shimmering back, showing Azura her own dirtied face, with her gold eyes gleaming at herself. She looked down at the pendant that rested just below her breast and sighed. She thought of her mother, and of the water, and through her sobs, tried to sing: _You are the ocean's gray waves_ …

The water did not become still. She dipped her hand into it and watched the ripples flow out. She fell to her knees and cried more, cursing her mother for the terrible trick she had played on her. She had no power, no control; there was nothing to be done. She continued to cry and heave hot air from her chest as she knelt at the edge of the lake until exhaustion overcame her and her consciousness faded.

When her eyes opened again, she realized it was dark—well, darker than usual—and she stared at the water once more. Her tears had dried onto her face and made salty lines down her cheeks that cracked when she shifted them. Only half awake, she murmured the words once more, this time like a tortured litany more than a prayer: _You are the ocean's gray waves_ …

A silvery ring spread out through the water as it became perfectly still. She stared at it, in awe, but still affected by her fatigue. She heard, at once, the sounds of hooves rushing up to meet her. She thought she might cry again: they would punish her for her truancy and then return her to that awful place… she couldn't bear it. She ran into the water and submerged herself face-first. She listened to the muffled echoes of the hooves bearing down on her, and she tried to force herself deeper into the water, hoping it would work quickly. She shut her eyes and let the blackness envelop her. Anything was better than going back there.

She did not expect to wake up outside her own home. Azura realized quickly that she could no longer feel the water around her, and she opened her eyes to see the sapphire-blue horizons of her childhood. Oh, words could not begin to describe the joy she felt! She was home, and free at last! She regretted cursing her mother: she had told her the solution all that time ago, and she had failed to understand, but now she could be with her again! She raced off in the direction of the castle, easily remembering the lay of the land and pausing to smell a field of lilacs she recalled before leaving. She drew within viewing distance of the alabaster walls of her kingdom… and found it ravaged.

She stood still and unblinking: the castle was crumbling, the town below it was empty, and all the world seemed silent. She decided she must go on to inspect the castle town to see what had happened. Her view did not change: the once-vivacious streets remained empty and frighteningly quiet. She continued on to the bride that separated that castle's ground floor from the town and, suddenly, the light returned to her eyes: there was her mother standing before her! She ran to her mother's arms, shouting for her.

The woman eyed her suspiciously. "You…" she said, "that pendant… Where did you get it?"

Azura reminded her mother that it had belonged to her.

"Me?" the woman blinked, "Impossible. And why do you call me 'mother?' I have no children. I am a servant only to Lord Anankos."

Azura contradicted her mother, noting that she was quite certain that this was the case.

"It does not matter," the woman shrugged, "give that pendant here."

Azura recalled her mother's words and, in keeping with them, refused to part with the pendant. She reminded her mother of those words.

"I am not your mother, child," the woman growled, "now, relinquish that pendant or I will have you hanged in Anankos's name!"

Azura hesitated, then scrambled back to the castle town, her mother hot on her heels, but for some reason, as she fled, she realized she could no longer hear her mother pursuing her. She did not turn back and continued to flee until she hit the edge of the cliff to which her mother had brought her on that fateful day. What a horrible choice she was being forced to make, she thought. With few other options, she turned around (so as to avoid looking down), spread her arms, and leaned back, hearing the familiar whistle of wind as she fell.

When she awoke once more, she was in that onyx-colored valley where lightning jumped overhead and felt the vibration through her nerves once more. She thought at once that this must all be an awful dream, and resigned herself to sitting on the ground, uncertain of what to do next. As she sat, she watched a trio of knights approach her. One, with his helmet off, seemed to be leading the group, and was the first to approach her. He had a jagged face with a sharp scar along his cheek and silvery-lavender hair. "We've been looking all over for you, princess," he told her in a tone much more jovial than she expected, "Come away. Let's get you home." She spent years of her life trying to forget this episode.

But before long, her life was changed again as she was taken. Late in the night, as she lay unmoving in her bed, she heard the window to her chamber swing open. A man with black and white hair jumped in and covered her mouth, dragging her out of the castle and onto a horse. She might have struggled and shouted in protest, but whatever these men were prepared to do to her could be no worse than the near-daily abuse she suffered in the kingdom of darkness. So, she rode in silence for hours until she drifted to sleep. When she awoke, she was being loaded onto a ship. "Hurry, dammit!" she heard one of the sailors swear, "All of Nohr will be upon us if we aren't at sea by daybreak!" She waited in the dark hold as she heard movement all about the ship, but she did not dare stir. Eventually, she thought she heard the even swaying of the sea beneath the vessel. All the same, she remained silent as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

Several hours into the voyage, a man with chrome-blue hair and round spectacles opened the hatch and came down to greet her. He apologized for the situation and explained that since Nohr had stolen one of Hoshido's princes, they had stolen one of Nohr's princesses in return. The man asked Azura if she understood. She didn't. He told her not to worry herself much about it—that they would be travelling to a very nice place, and that she had nothing to fear from her abductors. She chose to believe him.

"Azura?" she turned around. Ryoma was standing behind her again, "I'm leaving now. I want to be alongside mother when he comes back, but I also need to ensure that his trip remains a safe one. What will you do?"

She told him that she planned to remain there, by the lake.

"You… don't wish to see our brother when he returns?"

Azura replied that she would speak to him once everyone else had gotten their chance—after all, she had no real relation to him, so his blood siblings should have the chance to join him first.

Ryoma took this with a nod, "Right… Well, if that's your decision, I can't stop you. I hope you will speak with him, though."

She agreed that she would.

As Azura was led into the capital, she saw a black-haired woman in a white dress greeting her. Her head was anointed by a shining gold crown that sprouted from her hair like a star. She smiled when Azura approached her, "Hello, child. What is your name?" Azura told her. "That is a very beautiful name," she said, "My name is Mikoto. I want you to know, Azura, that I brought you here because someone important to me was taken from me, and I think you can help get him back. That person is my son, Azura. Would you be willing to help me?"

It was the first time anyone had politely asked Azura for anything in as long as she could remember. She agreed.

"Thank you," Mikoto smiled sweetly, "Guards, Yukimura, you may take you leave. I wish to speak to Azura in private, if I may." The men shuffled quickly out of the hall in compliance with her request. When the hall was empty, Mikoto came closer, "Azura, please listen. I know what happened to your mother, but I cannot speak about it now. In due time, when my son returns, we can discuss helping her, all right?" Azura nodded rapidly. Mikoto smiled again, "Thank you so much. In the meantime, I want you to read through this book, all right? It will explain what you need to know." Azura thanked her and opened the book.

Of course, Mikoto's son was never returned, and Azura remained in Hoshido as a political prisoner for years, although the people of Hoshido were far kinder to her (perhaps, Azura reasoned, because their queen was still alive). While there, Azura learned about the conflict between Hoshido and Nohr, and how she fit into it. More importantly, as her education progressed, she learned from Queen Mikoto's diary about her homeland: Valla. She learned how Anankos destroyed it, and why. She learned about the curse that forced all to remain silent about the now-mythical land where she had been born, and she learned about her prospects for the future.

Her one prospect.

She stood by the lake, humming slowly to bring forth the melody, then began: _You are the ocean's gray waves, destined to seek life beyond the shore, just out of reach_ … The ring spread through the water again and it became still. Sensing a presence, however, Azura turned around.

"Oh!" the man across from her apologized, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt, that song of yours was just so beautiful… entrancing, even."

"You must be the Nohrian prince," she replied. It was him. In all the minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years of waiting, he was standing before her now. Her heart throbbed in her chest so much that she prayed he couldn't see it.

"That's right," he stammered, "and you are?"

"I'm Azura. A…" she choked back the thought bubbling up, "former princess of Nohr."

"Former princess of Nohr? But I grew up with the Nohrian royal family. Surely I'd have heard of you if that were true."

Could it really be? She only barely remembered him, and he looked so much more mature now. But of course it was, there was only one person alive in his position, there could be no doubt.

"I've been here quite a while. After the Nohrians kidnapped you, the Hoshidans launched a retaliatory kidnapping and brought me here."

She felt frightened all the same. Would he remember her? Could Garon have brainwashed him somehow?

"So… all this time… gods, I'm so sorry."

But his voice was kind and gentle, and his demeanor soft. He had gone along with his Hoshidan brethren after all, hadn't he?

"It's not your fault," she sighed, "besides, I've lived a happy life, despite being a prisoner. Lady Mikoto is very kind to me—she treats me like her own daughter."

"She does?" the prince blinked.

"Is something wrong?" Azura asked.

"No, sorry," he sighed, "I'm just… not sure what to do. She and all my blood siblings have professed so much love for me, and yet… I don't feel any strong connection to her."

"I understand," Azura nodded, "I think I'd feel the same about King Garon if I returned to Nohr."

And he was so striking now. He seemed to embody everything that she had missed about Valla. As if in answer to all the suffering she had experienced, his very presence here soothed her heart—to have just one other Vallite left to speak to in this world, and to have it be him… She held back tears, for it truly felt as if the weight of the pain had finally been lifted.

The prince stood still and pink began to color his cheeks.

Azura looked to either side, wondering if he had read her mind somehow, "I'm sorry, was there something else?"

"No," he huffed, "I just… I know this sounds strange, but… I don't feel any connection to Queen Mikoto, but… you… When I saw your face, it felt like I had known you, somehow, long ago. Does that make any sense?"

She smiled, "It does. I sense something familiar about you, too. Perhaps we'll both come to see if each of us is the person we think they are."

There was a chance. There was an opportunity. Finally, she would not have to suffer in silence any longer.

The prince smiled, too, "I hope so."


End file.
